


Weak Constitution

by Iwouldwrite1000fics



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Cold Weather, Common Cold, Genderfluid Crowley (Good Omens), Hurt/Comfort, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Light Angst, Other, Sick Crowley (Good Omens), Sickfic, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:13:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23603605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iwouldwrite1000fics/pseuds/Iwouldwrite1000fics
Summary: The cold weather was always harsh on Crowley and he learned to be harsh on himself over the years because of it.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 225





	Weak Constitution

**Author's Note:**

> fill for the Good Omens Prompt: Crowley gets sick easily from the cold.

The first thunderstorm brought with it new things. It brought Adam and Eve their first argument of how to decorate the lean-to. It brought an angel his first compassionate act towards a demon as Aziraphale lifted his wing to protect Crawly from the rain, and for Crawly it brought a strange scratchy feeling in the back of his throat. It lingered after the rains left. Along with a stuffy feeling in his nose that made him sneeze and a chill that had him seeking extra warmth from the sun. 

It went away though eventually and Crawly put it down to the lovely misses upstairs testing out new things in her creation and giving the suffering to the wretched fallen ones as was the way of things.

Until it happened again…and again…and again.

Every rainstorm, every cold snap, and then every bitter winter when a certain angel just had to pick London as his home it resulted in the same thing. Well not quite Crowley supposed sometimes it came in the form a fever that left him hot and thirsty and babbling incoherently at the ceiling for days. Sometimes it was a harsh cough that tore at his lungs and shredded his voice. Other times it just left him…drippy. 

And he discovered early on that it was indeed just him. Other demons didn’t have such an issue as he learned rather harshly when he’s been called before them while sick and severely punished for it. He wondered often if it was a further punishment, that as a healer in Heaven he was now one to fall ill so easily in Hell. Unfortunately it was also one of the few things being around humans didn’t alleviate as they too judged him for his weakness. For centuries they talked about weak constitutions, and keeping a stiff upper lip, and not being a burden on society. 

So he learned to deal with it alone, curled up under his bed covers and glaring at the storms outside, and was indeed quite put out when humans stopped putting cocaine in their cold medicines.

*** 

“Nanny, I don’t feel well.”

At those words Crowley had taken Warlock in her arms and carried the child to bed. She had just gotten him settled when Mr. Dowling came in. 

“Misses Ashtoreth, you know what I think about coddling.”

“Of course, Mr. Dowling.” 

Thankfully, depending on your point of view, Warlock took that moment to throw up in the bowl by the bed causing Mr. Dowling to wrinkle his nose and leave.

“Sorry, Nanny.”

“It’s all right, dear, nanny will make everything better.” 

Warlock was young he didn’t deserve to deal with the sneers and the harsh words that had dogged her for millennia at least not yet. So she set about tending to her charge. Giving him every comfort she could think of from his favourite lullaby to miraculously finding the stuffed rabbit Mrs. Dowling insisted Warlock was too old for and had donated the week before. Then of course she made sure through the rest of her time in the household to never use a single sick day herself.

***

The weather had been good since they’d moved to South Downs. Maybe it was residue from Adam’s desire for perfect weather in Tadfield maybe it was just good luck, but in any case Crowley had remained in fine health as he and Aziraphale built their lives on their own side.

So he groaned loudly the day he saw dark clouds forming on the horizon.

“You think we should still go out tonight, Aziraphale?”

“Crowley, really it’s just a late summer storm nothing to worry about.”

Crowley could deny his angel nothing so he bundled up as best he could.

“Is all the accoutrement really necessary?” Aziraphale asked, as Crowley tucked a scarf into the collar of his coat.

Crowley merely hiked the collar up of his coat as far as he could and went out to brave the wind. Aziraphale rolled his eyes at the display and followed.

The night was still lovely though. The food was delicious, the show enjoyable, and even coming home in the rain proved to be an experience. Aziraphale had brought his umbrella and they pressed tightly together underneath it. Crowley obviously never took the time to be out in a storm, to appreciate the sound of the raindrops and the way his angel’s eyes sparkled in the watery street lights.

It was nice.

The consequences were still rearing their ugly head though as Crowley was shivering by the time they returned. Sniffling softly as he shed his clothes for warm pajamas and made sure to miracle a box of tissues onto his bed side table as he got in.

Surprisingly Aziraphale got in with him and spooned up from behind.

“Can’t have you catching a chill.”

Crowley just hummed in agreement though he knew it was already too late.

It was so good though to be held in the angel’s strong embrace as the familiar feeling of malaise began creeping over him. So Crowley muffled a sneeze into the blanket and tried to enjoy it while it lasted.

***

By the next morning the rain was just tapering off and the clouds beginning to clear. It was going to be a beautiful day. Aziraphale smiled as he looked out the kitchen window wondering if he might convince Crowley to have a picnic out in the garden once the ground was dry. It was starting to look so lovely after all. He poured out their morning tea and then looked over towards the bedroom as the cottage remained silent. It was strange that the demon wasn’t up yet. Normally he came in at the first shout of the teapot complaining it was too loud.

Putting everything on a tray he went into the bedroom and found Crowley still buried under the covers.

“Crowley?”

Crowley groaned and rolled over, looking as though he hadn’t slept well at all.

“Sorry, Angel, I-”

Can’t manage a conversation apparently he thought as he bent over into a coughing fit.

He tensed as Aziraphale’s hand rubbed his back, but still accepted the glass of water he offered when it was over.

“Thanks,” he said, his voice sounding like someone had stuffed his whole head with cotton.

He tensed again at the hand pressing against his forehead and felt the swollen glands of his throat.

“Oh my, you have taken ill.”

Crowley nodded knowing there was no way he was going to hide this now. “Yeah, it always happens in weather like this. Well not this, this,” he gestured to sun filled window, “I mean before, last night.”

“Is that why you over dressed?”

Crowley nodded again. “I try to protect against it as much as I can, wasn’t very successful this time clearly.”

“Why wouldn’t you say something?” Aziraphale asked, feeling guilty for taking Crowley out when it was clearly such a detriment to his health.

“It’s my…weakness to deal with, Angel.”

Aziraphale was quiet for a while knowing that indeed some turned away the ill and infirm no matter how cruel that might be.

“Oh, Crowley.”

He got into bed with him and pulled the blanket up around them tightly.

“You, you don’t have to m’sure you have more important things to do,” Crowley tried to feebly protest as Aziraphale gently coaxed him to rest his head against his chest.

“I do have to do this, Crowley. I want to, because you are important to me and I cherish you, my dear fellow.”

He rubbed Crowley’s back and realized after a moment or two that Crowley was crying.

“Is it that bad?” he asked, as he wiped away the tears.

“No. I’m just not used to someone caring.”

“Well you’re going to get used to it, because I promise I’m going to care for you now and whenever it’s happens in future.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes, one day you’ll be annoyed by me fussing over you, my dear, I’m sure of it.”

Crowley honestly couldn’t imagine a day like that as he settled back against Aziraphale’s chest as the angel ran his hands gently through his hair, but he rather looked forward to finding out. 

The End


End file.
